A Month of Our Favorite Idiots
by BiOfTheTiger
Summary: I have decided to try the 30 day OTP challenge, Destiel, of course. This should be interesting.
1. Holding Hands

A Month of Our Favorite Idiots

Holding Hands

Sam is about ready to kill the both of them.

He can handle the staring into each other's souls, getting separate rooms, even the innuendos, but THIS? This was too much.

Sam stared at Dean and Cas' intertwined hands from the backseat (where Dean had forced him to sit, claiming Sam "always sat up front") with a blank look of pure "I'm am done dealing with you morons." Not two minutes ago, Dean had reached out and taken the angel's hand, not that Cas had objected, and threw a smile over at him. And he hadn't let go or anything, nope, they were still holding hands like it was the most normal thing in the world, like they had just *forgotten* that Sam was sitting there in the backseat.

But when Dean started rubbing circles onto Cas' hand with his thumb, that was when Sam lost it.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam totally-did-not-shout-like-a-ten-year-old-girl.

"What do you mean?" Dean said, not pulling either his eyes from the road or his hand from the angel.

"That!" Sam screeched, aggressively gesturing to the blasphemy going on on the middle seat.

"A plus explanation Sam, that cleared up everything," Dean snarked, rolling his eyes.

"Dean, I think what he's confused about is our hand holding. I still don't think he knows," Castiel monotoned.

"Don't know what?" Sam asked, at the same time his brother cried, "How do you not know?"

Dean finally let go of Cas to pull over onto the shoulder and turn to face Sam.

"How do you not know?" Dean repeated. "I thought it was pretty freakin' obvious, Sam!"

"What's obvious, Dean?"

"The fact that Cas and I are together!"

"You and Cas are together?"

Dean scrubbed at his face, muttering something about Sam being the smart one. "We always get a different room than you. We're constantly having chick flick moments. Hell, I let him eat off my damn fork, Sam!"

Sam smirked and shook his head, gaping all the same. "I owe Bobby ten bucks."

Dean sighed, pulled back onto the road, and slipped his hand back into Cas'. "Idiot."


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

"Dean? Where are we going?" Castiel asked, his newly human senses not being able to tell where Dean was driving the two of them.

"I just wanna show you what the world looks like without your angel vision," Dean responded, a small smile curling onto his mouth.

Dean was right, of course. Things looked different. Before the fall, Castiel would've been able to see the sound waves Dean's music was producing, seen each star in the sky outside as the ball of gas it is, heard his brethren relaying important news throughout heaven. But now, he heard the rough singing and guitar notes coming from the stereo, and bright lights dotting the inky Montana sky, and the only noises other than the music were the Impala's engine purring and Dean faintly singing.

Castiel liked being a human more than being an angel in this sense, certainly.

Dean turned off the car in the middle of a field. The car was surrounded by tall evergreens, and there was a snowcapped mountain in front of them. The sky above was clear, and the stars were so bright they were lighting up the chrome on the Impala.

Cas was so distracted he almost didn't hear Dean say, "Come on, Cas. Sit with me."

Castiel got out of the car and watched Dean lay a blanket on the hood of the car. The hunter hopped up to sit on the blanket and then laid against the windshield, patting the space next to him in an invitation. So Cas clambered up onto the hood as well, leaving Dean his "personal space." But apparently Dean was over his claustrophobia, because he scooted closer to the former angel, so close that Castiel could feel Dean's knee and hipbone and foot and shoulder and the arm Dean had slung around his shoulders.

"You know," Dean said in a low voice. "They say that around this time, you can see the Northern Lights from here."

There was a pause as Dean sighed, fog appearing in the chilly air.

"I've never seen 'em. And you've never seen 'em with human eyes, so I thought we could do it together."

Castiel smiled. "Thank you, Dean. I appreciate every experience I share with you."

There was another short pause. Dean must've really been okay with the sharing of personal space, because he leaned his head over and nuzzled his cheek against Castiel's temple.

As Castiel laid his head on Dean's chest, green lights appeared in the sky like a celestial artist had painted them on the black canvas. Of course, that was, essentially, the case. Cas used to know the angel that created the Aurora Borealis each night.

"They are beautiful, Dean," Castiel whispered.

"Yeah, Cas," Dean agreed. "You are."

And when Dean pressed his lips to Castiel's head, Cas was glad he could feel it.


	3. Watching A Movie

"A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.." Dean quoted as the words came up on the screen.

From the other side of the couch, Sam scowled at his computer. "You gonna do that the whole time, Dean?"

"Yes. If it bothers you so much, go get your headphones or something."

The younger Winchester huffed in response and continued typing.

"This all seems very complicated, Dean," Cas said from where his head was on Dean's lap.

"It'll all make sense soon," Dean answered, tossing popcorn at the angel. "Now hush."

"Hey!" Castiel grumbled, throwing a handful of the buttery kernels right back at Dean.

And the hunter pelted him back.

"Stoooooppppp," Cas whined, pushing Dean's hip (it was what he could reach).

"Stoooooppppp," Dean mocked, shoving Castiel right off his lap and onto the floor with a smirk.

But the angel popped right back up. "Don't start with me Winchester. You know I'll win."

"You wanna bet?"

And so, with a growl, Castiel lunged at the hunter, who, unfortunately for him, was not expecting such a forceful attack. With a yelp, they pushed that section of the wrap-around sofa back.

That was the point where Sam rolled his eyes and went off to get his headphones. But Sam's disappearance did not wage the war, as Dean tackled Cas to the middle of the living room, pinning the angel by sitting on his stomach.

"Whatcha gonna do now, angel?" Dean taunted, a devilish grin plastered on his face.

"This."

Castiel flipped them over, pinning Dean down at the wrists. "Gotcha."

This was the point where they started aggressively making out in the middle of the living room floor, and they didn't half-ass it either. Because when Sam came back, his headphones dangling from his hand, all it took was the sight of the two of them kissing, feverishly, open-mouthed on the rug with Castiel mounted on top of a squirming Dean with Princess Leia being captured in the background for Sam to grab his laptop and run back to his room.

An hour later, when Dean and Cas were hot and sticky and panting (and somehow back on the couch?), the credits were already rolling.

Dean grumbled. "We missed the whole movie."

"Start it over," Cas said tossing the remote at Dean. It accidentally-on-purpose hit him in the shoulder.

"You son of a bitch," the hunter chucked. "You'll pay for that."

He got up to get a drink ten minutes later and ambushed Cas from behind with a pillow. Castiel, in turn, threw a Solo cup at him.

As they say, history always repeats itself...


	4. On A Date

Dean swallowed hard. He opened the door to Chez Abella and let Cas walk through, a slight smile on the angel's face.

"This place looks...very nice, Dean," Castiel assured him, looking around.

The hunter let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean sighed. "I was afraid you wouldn't...ya know.."

"Like it?" Castiel asked as a server showed them to a table.

"Well...yeah."

As they sat down, Castiel kissed Dean on the cheek, taking him by complete surprise. "It's perfect."

The hunter cleared his throat as if that would make his vibrant blush disappear. Luckily, the waitress came over to save Dean.

"What can I get you two to drink?" She asked nasally.

"Uh, can I get a scotch and a water please?" Dean asked.

"I'll have whatever he's having," Castiel told the woman with a smile.

Elizabeth (said her name tag) went over to the bar to get their drinks, leaving the two to talk.

"You know Cas, it's funny. It's been years, and if someone asked, I could tell them your fighting style or your favorite version of heaven, but not your favorite color."

"That's easy. Forest green. Like your eyes."

The blush returned to Dean's cheeks.

"Well, um, I happen to love this deep, indescribable shade of blue."

"What a shock."

"Sarcastic son of a-"

Elizabeth interrupted Dean, however, when she brought the drinks over. The boys ordered steaks, thanked the waitress, and then the couple toasted to their first date. But when Dean went to take a sip, he accidentally spilled his scotch all over his pants and frantically pushed the chair back to stand up, but tripped on the low hanging table cloth and toppled to the floor.

As all of the patrons of the restaurant stared at Dean, who was redder than ever on the floor, Castiel hopped up and helped the man up, and called Elizabeth over to order another scotch.

But it didn't stop there. When Dean went to the bathroom, his shirt got caught in his zipper and he had to call Cas into the bathroom to help him. And when they got the food, Dean choked on a piece of steak.

As the meal came to a close and they were driving back to the bunker, Dean Winchester could not have been more crestfallen. The date, Castiel's first date, was ruined because of his clumsiness.

The ride home was pretty quiet, only the "Houses of the Holy" album playing through the Impala's stereo. Dean parked the car in front, went into their bedroom, stripped to his boxers, and crawled into bed as a ball of self-pity and shame.

It was at least ten minutes before Dean felt a warm body curl around him and kiss his neck.

"Dean?"

"Mm?"

"Thank you for tonight. I had a great time."

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not though. It was perfect. I had an uninterrupted two hours of just...talking to you. That was more than I could've asked."

"Really?"

"Really."


	5. Kissing

Dean was drunk. Not just drunk, but completely shitfaced wasted, hammered, drunk.

Really, this was all Castiel's fault. Cas tending to a cut on Dean's back and making Dean have FEELINGS was what made the hunter gulp down half the total amount of booze in the bunker anyway. So, again: all Castiel's fault.

So that was what led to Dean sitting at a desk in the library with a good friend Jack Daniels and his thoughts (which were pretty damn foggy at this point). He was mumbling something about faults when the angel himself walked in, the flared tan trenchcoat on his body catching Dean's attention.

"Dean-"

"Your trenchcoat is sexy," Dean interrupted, slurring all the words so they were only partial English and the natural Kansan accent he got when he was drunk kicking in, giving the words a Mid-Western twang.

Cas seemingly forgot what he was going to say and cocked his head, his blue eyes confused slits.

Dean chucked. "Don't tilt that head, boy. Just get your ass over here and kiss me."

Castiel still looked very confused, so Dean got up from his chair and walked over to the angel, wrapping his hand around his neck.

"I said, 'Kiss me.'"

"I don't think-"

"Well if you aren't going to-"

Dean cut himself off when he pressed his lips to Castiel's, wasting no time to trace his angel's lips with his tongue. Cas could taste the alcohol on Dean, the dark, woody taste of the whiskey still on the tongue that was now in his mouth.

Dean would say Cas caught onto the whole kissing thing pretty quick when Cas gave Dean's lower lip a nibble and then proceeded to slide his tongue into Dean's mouth and, as it seemed, try to clean all the alcohol out of Dean.

"Too clean, angel," Dean growled, pushing Cas against the wall. "We need to make you a little dirtier."

Unlike most times Dean got drunk, the next day, when the hangover was gone and he dozed next to the warm body in his bed, he didn't regret getting drunk the day before. And neither did Cas.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

"Cas, this barely even fits me, and I'm bigger then you are."

Dean walked out from the wall he was changing his clothes behind wearing Castiel's trench coat and formal wear. Meanwhile, Castiel stared down at the leather jacket, flannel, jeans, and Dean's other get-up on his person in surprise.

"You clothes are very comfortable and surprisingly functional..." He remarked.

Dean grumbled as he loosened his tie a bit. "Remind me why we have to do this?"

"Because that werewolf has your scent, Dean, and your clothes are only making it stronger."

"So I have to subject you to that?"

Cas threw him that, "I'm an angel, you idiot," look and monotoned, "Dean. I'll be FINE."

"Yeah, yeah, alright, let's just get this show on the road," Dean said, giving Castiel a peck.

The pair rounded the corner, the trench coat on Dean billowing out behind him. They patrolled the streets, heading to the park where the werewolf they'd been hunting had made most of its attacks, and, seeing no sign of the animal, Dean jogged over to the swings.

"Come on, Cas! Swings!"

Castiel chuckled and submitted to Dean's request, following the hunter over to the swing set and hopping on, pumping his legs until he got as high as Dean.

"This what flying feels like, Cas?"

"Not exactly."

Dean giggled. "I feel like Superman or somethin', with my tan trench-cape."

"Well, you are a hero, Dean."

Dean pushed Cas' swing so it went a little off course. "Cheesy son of a bitch."

Castiel smiled at him. "I try."

Pumping to the highest point, Dean told Cas, "Watch this," and went flying off the swing, landing on his feet but stumbling on the coat and finally landing on his back in the sand.

"Dean!" Cas called out, doing the same as Dean but actually landing it, crawling over to his boyfriend. "Are you okay?"

"Cas," he whispered. "The wolf is over in those bushes."

Castiel slowly turned his head to see the brown animal growling from the bushes 20 feet away. He reached to the back of Dean's pants to grab the gun loaded with silver bullets and as he did, the wolf charged at them, jumping right over Dean to tackle Cas. Before Dean could even do anything, Castiel had already smote the beast, pushing the dead body off of himself.

Dean crawled nearer to Castiel, ignoring the slain monster on the ground beside them, and straddled Cas, leaning down to kiss him.

"Nice work, babe."

"Thank you. But I would rather not get caught for public indecency, so maybe we should take this to the car?"

Dean made an "mm" noise, getting up and walking with Cas to the car, giving the angel a little pat on the butt.

"My jeans look good on you, angel. You should keep 'em."

"Maybe I will."


	7. Cosplaying

"Oh my god. Oh my god. I think I might die," Charlie laughed, taking out her phone.

"You said you got me Solo!" Dean yelled, turning around in his Slave Leia costume.

"No, I said I got *A* Solo costume. Which is Cas'."

And as soon as she said it, Castiel came out of the bathroom in boots, navy blue pants, a white button-up, and a black vest, blaster in hand, and confused look on his face. "Dean, why are you wearing a bra?"

"Dammit Charlie!" Dean shouted, his skirt swooshing as he paced.

Charlie giggled. "You asked for my help, you got it. Now you should probably get to that con. It's getting to be busy time..."

"I can't go hunting in this, Charlie!"

"Dean, Charlie is right. We should get going," Castiel agreed.

"But-"

"Dean."

The hunter sighed. "Whatever. Let's just get in the car."

Castiel and Charlie watched Dean walk towards them and out the door, and laughed at his anti-possession tattoo above the bra and his bowlegs almost peeking out of the slits in the dress. Cas bid Charlie farewell and followed Dean out the door, finding the man pouting in the Impala, blaring AC/DC. The angel slid into the seat next to him and kissed him. "I like your costume."

"Whatever. Let's just hurry it up and get there so this hunt can be over already."

So Dean and Castiel drove to the Star Wars convention to kill a shifter posing as a costume judge. And after the shifter was gone, Charlie came around to meet the boys at the con with some normal clothes, only to find them stuck outside, sitting on a bench.

"The hell?" Charlie asked as she walked up to them.

Dean lifted his head out of his hands. "Ask Mr. Grabby over here."

Charlie looked to Cas who sighed and said, "I touched Dean inappropriately and they kicked us out."

"That's not all though, is it Cas?"

The angel threw his hunter a glare.

"Cas here decided to reach up the skirt and mojo off my boxers. In public."

Then they both looked at Charlie, who busted up laughing.

"Who gets kicked out of a Star Wars con for inappropriate behavior?"

"Apparently, Cas."


	8. Shopping

Dean Winchester was laying in bed with arms full of angel when he realized something.

"You need another coat," he confessed.

"I have one," Castiel mumbled, turning over to face Dean.

"I know. But what if we could find one more like the old one? And we can get a tie too, another one the same color as your eyes?"

"Mm," Cas grumbled, and then fell asleep.

Dean just laughed at him.

The next day, the couple said bye to Sam and then headed off to the nearest thrift shop, Angel's Attic(Ironically.), an hour away. After parking, the boys walked into the store and were greeted by a woman named Rachel.

"Hey, um, we're just looking around. Thanks," Dean told her, and Rachel went back to her post at the cash register.

So Dean and Castiel searched, up and down the racks. There were plenty of sweaters, dresses, and winter jackets, but not a single trench coat. And as many times as they re-dug through the racks and racks of clothes, two can only search for so long, so after a couple hours, the hunter and his angel decided to give it up.

As they walked away, heads hung, Rachel stopped them. "What were you boys looking for?"

"A trenchcoat," Cas told her.

"A trenchcoat? I have one right here!"

Rachel went behind the desk and pulled down a tan trenchcoat from the rack. And wouldn't you know, it happened to be the one Castiel had left at the laundromat months ago.

"Yeah, someone brought this in a long time ago. There was a whole set; suit, undershirt, shoes, coat, tie. Only things left now are the tie and the coat though."

"Well take 'em," Dean told Rachel, and the Winchester clan had found another member of the family.


	9. Hanging With Friends

"Why is Sam part of my birthday present? That's pretty kinky, Cas."

"You won't care when you get the present."

Castiel walked Sam and Dean Winchester to the living room of the bunker, sitting the both of them down on the couch and looking at them with nervous blue eyes.

"Dean," he began. "I know you've been very disappointed in the fact that I haven't been able to visit you as often as usual lately."

"Tell me about it.."

"BUT, I've been busy for a good cause. I've traveled between the bunker and heaven a lot lately. I told you that I was told to organize something, which was partially true. I was organizing something: your birthday present."

"I still wanna know why Sammy is part of your big sex scheme."

"It is not a sex scheme, Dean."

"Yet."

Cas smirked at him. "Sam's here because this is a gift to him as well. For being my friend."

So Castiel took two small bottles of pale green liquid out of his coat and set them on the table.

"Your instructions are to drink the...stuff in the bottle. It will stop your heart from beating and oxygen from getting to your brain for 6 hours."

"You gave me temporary suicide for my birthday?"

"Let me finish! So you drink it and you die. I'll meet you in heaven, and from there I'm going to take you somewhere. Okay?"

The brothers skeptically agreed, picking up the bottles and unscrewing the caps.

"Hey," Dean said, grabbing Cas' tie and pulling him in. "Kiss just in case?"

Castiel kissed his hunter, and then watched Sam and Dean gulp down the concoction, a rush of fear going through him as he watched them gasp for air and go limp. Choking down the worry, Cas kissed Dean's lifeless body on the forehead and then went up to heaven, immediately locating his profound bond.

Dean smiled when Cas landed next to him, folding up his wings. "That was quick."

Cas smiled back. "This way to your present."

The Winchester brothers followed Cas down a road to a wooden bar that looked suspiciously like...

"The Roadhouse?" Sam asked.

Castiel only smiled and watched Sam walk in, the door shutting behind him. Dean put out his hand for Cas to hold and he took it, and they walked in together.

Sam was standing in the middle of the bar floor hugging Mary and John, tears flowing down his face. Cas looked at Dean, whose green eyes had tears in them as Ellen walked over and wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Hey," she scolded. "Don't you go crying on me boy."

It was at this point Dean must've realized this was real and let go of Cas' hand, wrapping his arms around Ellen. When Ellen let go, Dean looked to his mom, who had her arms open for him, and began to bawl when Mary took him in her arms.

Honestly, Dean would never get another birthday present for the rest of his life.


	10. Sick

Castiel laid on the couch shivering. His vessel's nose was running, he coughed occasionally, and he was very cold, despite his actual body temperature being over 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit.

Castiel had his first cold. It was very unusual for angels to get sick, but when you were in close contact with humans so much of the time and your grace was waning, your vessel's immune system might grow ill. But his illness didn't mean he knew what to do about it.

So Cas laid shivering on the couch, pulling his trench coat tighter around him, when Dean walked in, rubbing sleep from his eyes."Why are you in here? I got scared when you weren't in bed."

"I didn't want to get you s-"

And right there, in the middle of his sentence, Castiel sneezed for the first time. His wings flew out from the comfort of his back, showering the room in raven black down feathers.

"-ick," he finished, as Dean looked around in bewilderment.

"The hell?" The hunter asked, catching one of Cas' feather's in his palm.

"It seems when I sneeze, my wings react as well."

"So you're sick?"

Cas sniffled and nodded. He watched as Dean told him he's be right back, and then returned a few minutes later with blankets and some of his old clothes.

"Okay, well first things first is take off the suit. You're sick and you need to be comfortable. Put these on."

Dean threw an AC/DC tee shirt and flannel pants at Cas. Then he walked over, set the blankets down on the floor, and kissed Cas on the forehead. A scowl crossed his face.

"You have a fever. What else is going on?"

"Coughing. Sneezing. Congested sinuses. Raw throat."

"Seems like you have a head cold. I'll go get you some stuff."

Dean left again and returned once more a few minutes later with some boxes and bottles of medicine and water, a cup of orange juice,a movie, and a smile. He plopped down on the couch next to Castiel, setting down all of his items on the floor and picking them up as he explained them, one by one. First came one of the medicines.

"Alright, so this should cover your fever. You can take two every four hours. This bottle is for your throat and cough. One spoonful every two is good. And these little things you put on your nose if you can't breathe. Drink that whole glass of OJ, it'll help you out a lot. Drink lots of water too, okay? I'll pop in Temple of Doom for you, 'cause I have to go to the store to get stuff to make soup, but I should be back soon. Feel free to sleep, but if you need something, I told Sammy you're sick. Just use your phone to call him."

A quick kiss, a 'Feel better,' and then Castiel heard the Impala rumbling away. And then he must've fallen asleep, because Dean was shaking him awake and the sunlight was disappearing in the window.

"Hey, babe. I made you some Tomato and Rice Soup."

"'M not hungry," Cas mumbled, 0flipping over.

"You gotta eat something."

Dean helped Cas sit up and fed him a spoonful of soup.

"Good?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Cas assured him, and grabbed the bowl of soup as Dean snuggled next to him on the couch.

"Dean," Castiel fussed. "You'll get sick too."

As if in an act of defiance, Dean grabbed Cas' neck and pulled him in for a long kiss.

"Thing is, Cas, I don't care."


	11. Dying In the Other's Arms

Castiel took another look at the Impala before walking into the warehouse. "Dean?"

"Cas!" He screamed. That sent Cas running between crates and boxes to the corner where his voice was coming from, procuring his angel blade as he did. When he got to the back wall, he called out his name again.

A low chuckle came from his left. "Somehow I knew that would get you here."

Dean came waltzing out of the shadows in a black tuxedo, turning an angel blade in her hands. His hair had been freshly cut, and the bowtie on his neck stood out. He was even walking and talking differently. The casual, bowlegged gait was gone and was replaced by a slow, formal march. His sarcastic, slightly Mid-Western drawl had gone as well, and he now sounded more like she was purring, pronouncing each of the words fully and clearly.

But the thing Castiel noticed first were the great white wings tucked into either side of his back.

"Michael," Castiel whispered.

The archangel drew a cocky smirk onto Dean's face. "Yes. Oh, and before you ask, it was fairly easy getting him to agree to this. All I had to do was conjure up a phony Castiel, get him to convince Mr. Winchester this was a grand idea, and he was mine."

"Get out of him."

"Tsk tsk tsk. Castiel, you must know that I've called you here for some reason."

Castiel glared at him.

"Castiel, some of us believe you might be taking your job a bit too seriously. We assigned you to look over them. The Rightous Man and his brother, Lucifer's vessel. What we did not assign you, however, was to create some demented love story for yourself."

Cas squinted and shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"You really need me to say this? You love Dean Winchester."

"Of course. From the beginning of creation, Father told us to love humanity."

"Precisely. *Humanity.* I love humanity. I correct their wrongs. I let their stories play out as Father wanted them to. I keep their lives working as they should. I love humanity as a whole. You love humanity, sure. But you love *him,* specifically."

Michael paused to to look at the blade in his hands glinting in the light.

"We warned you, little brother. You were getting too close to the humans in your charge. But this has gone too far, Castiel. You don't even play your part as a seraph anymore. You act is if you are their friend. And for this, you must be punished."

"I would rather die than become one of heaven's soldiers again, Michael. Maybe you are right. Maybe I do love Dean Winchester. Maybe I do treat him and his brother as if they are friends. But I have learned so much from them. I have learned that I have a choice. I don't have to listen to what Heaven tells me I must do. I have free will."

Michael laughed bitterly. "What an inspiring speech. You say you have free will, and you say you would rather die than become a soldier. I said I let human's stories play out. So, I suppose, I should kill you."

He looked at one of the stacks of boxes a sick smile curling on his face.

"Oh," the archangel chuckled, looking back to Castiel. "He's screaming for me not to do it. How nice."

And then Michael flew to Castiel, armed with the blade he had been playing with. He swiped at Cas, but the seraph dodged it, for the most part. The blade brushed his shoulder, the blue grace shining through. Castiel looked at his shoulder and then back to Michael, making a deep cut in one of his wings.

As Michael looked at his wing, Castiel desperately shouted, "Dean! Dean, you have to try and take control!"

Michael snapped his fingers and Castiel stopped talking, suddenly losing the ability. "Stop talking, Castiel. It's very annoying."

Michael stomped towards him, shaking his head. "You're so foolish, little brother. You must know that you cannot-"

He was cut off when Cas pushed him against a wall, holding the blade to his neck. All the archangel did was laugh.

"If you kill me, you kill him."

Cas looked down at the blade in his hands, the one pressing against Dean's neck. And then Dean's eyes looked at him, the green that Castiel knew shining through the blankness of Michael's control, and Castiel couldn't take it anymore.

There was a sharp pain when the blade entered Castiel's body, and an even worse one as his grace burned out.

Dean woke up in some warehouse. He was wearing a tuxedo, for some reason, and he was in a lot of pain. He flexed his fingers and felt metal, seeing it was a blood-covered angel blade. The hunter blinked, looking up. That's when he saw the body.

"No. No no no no. No. No."

Dean crawled over to Castiel, Dean's eyes wide and his breathing heavy.

"Oh god. Oh god. Cas? Cas, come on, come on, please. Come on, man, don't do this to me."

Dean looked to the ground, seeing the burnt shape of wings stretching out so far they went up the walls.

"Cas…"

A tear fell from Dean's cheek and onto Cas'.

Heaven lost an angel that day, but Dean lost a love.


	12. Making Out

"...so really it could be a shifter, or even a wendigo- Dean, are you even listening?"

Sam watched his brother glare over towards the bar, where Castiel was getting flirted with by a woman in a tight black dress and heels. Cas smiled at her and then asked the bartender something. The man set a glass of Dean's favorite beer down in front of her and she took a sip, giggling.

Sam was 98% sure he heard Dean *literally* growl.

"Oh HELL no," he grumbled, and then he walked right over to Cas, grabbed his lapels, and kissed him.

Sure, Sam had seen them kiss before. Plenty of times. But this was something else. Dean looked like he was trying to eat the angel's face. He was running his hands through Cas' hair slowly with one hand, and and the other was on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The fact that Sam could actually SEE Dean's tongue flicking over Cas' lips would've been disgusting, if he wasn't laughing about how the girl was storming off, looking offended.

Castiel hugged Dean's lower back, pressing them together, and then Dean put his hands on Cas' hips. Sam chuckled and then went back to his laptop, only reading about a paragraph from the news story when Dean smacked a 20 on the table.

Cas was pressed to his side, really just making out with Dean's neck like a two dollar whore. Dean's pupils were wide, his lips were swollen, and his cheeks were flushed.

"Sam, we're, um-"

Castiel leaned closer to whisper something in Dean's ear. The hunter's eyes went wide and he blurted out, so quickly it sounded like one word, "_CasandIaregoingbacktothemotel_!"

Castiel dragged Dean out the door, and Sam smirked as he watched them.

Crazy kids.


End file.
